The Son Always Rises, but the Daughter Sleeps In: A tale of OPB*

*Other People's Boogers

Friday, September 16, 2005

Healthy Boy!

We took Eric to the doctor this morning and his lungs were clear. That means no more nebulizer for now and life returns to normal.. This of course is with the exception that we have to cram bad-tasting antibiotics into his poor little body twice a day. He screams "ALL DONE!" and "NO" the whole time. It's most traumatic for us, but unlike us he recovers immediately and begins to play trains, whereas we tremble with self-inflicted guilt for hours.

Aaaah Parenting.

In other house news. The plumber and the electricians both called for their inspections which are happening today. After that the contractor can get the framing inspected and insulate and drywall should be going in by the end of the week. We're a lot more over budget than we thought. Somewhere along the line the plumber told the contractor that unless we replaced the furnace we had to switch from big radiators to baseboard heat. Unfortunately the contractor never relayed this information to us. Given Eric being sick we hadn't been over there for a while. Rich went over there yesterday and was surprised to see the contractor getting rid of all of our radiators. He said that I'd approved it, which I didn't as we had discussed it on numerous occasions and each time I said Keep the radiators, I don't want to spend any money on this!

In the long run, this is a good thing, but I think it's going to translate into a few thousand more up front from us, in exchange for a more efficient heating system. With gas prices being what they are, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. But I'm a little upset that it wasn't discussed first. However, if we had discussed it I'm sure we would have approved the overage under the circumstances. But if it comes to more than the cost of a new furnace, I'm going to be pissed.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

It's 8:30 PM on a Sunday night. You're in the Emergency Room with your toddler who was having severe breathing troubles earlier that day. They are trying to send you home with a prescription for antibiotics and a diagnosis for pneumonia. Your toddler tries to go to sleep right there on the exam table and you see his chest muscles working so hard for every breath and you realize it's time to start arguing with the nervous looking resident who is trying to to get you out of there. This is one of those moments in parenting that show you what you are made of. It will be the first of many in the next 24 hours.

This was my Sunday Night.

Eric woke up with a cough on Sunday morning. By around four or five he couldn't stop coughing. I called the doctor and she said to take him into the Emergency Room. I gave him some albuterol syrup and he wanted to lie down so I let him. Fifteen minutes later, I said "We're OUT of here." The area around his collar bones was pulling in and out and he was wheezing audibly.

By the time we got to the Emergency Room the albuterol had kicked in and he was breathing much more easily. But they did a chest X-Ray and based on that and the sounds his lungs made they said he had pneumonia. Then they tried to send us home.

Fortunately for us the whole thing took so long that the albuterol had worn off and they got to see what his breathing was like before we brought him in. The Nervous Resident listened to his lungs and he got the Chief Resident who opted for lots more drugs. So, I snuggled up to my baby on the narrow exam table and held a nebulizer in front of his face while he slept. They gave him a triple dose of various asthma medicines and after an hour or so, he was breathing almost normally.

They got busier and busier and I just lay there holding the oxygen next to his nose and listened to him breathe. Finally at around 10:30 they decided to admit us. They weren't happy with his oxygen levels and wanted to nebulize him every three hours throughout the night. It was a very fast turn around from "Go home with nothing for his breathing," to "We're keeping you overnight." But I was very happy to be getting out of the emergency room.

The pediatric nurses were wonderful. They let me and Eric curl up in a slightly less narrow bed together for the night. Rich had to drive to New Jersey for a work thing at 6:30 Monday AM, so he reluctantly had to leave us there by ourselves. We were discussing it and as he decided to go, Eric said "Bye Bye Daddy." He understands EVERYTHING these days. So we cuddled up on that bed, my baby in my arms and I held the vapor to his nose while he slept.

He woke up just shy of six the next day and we played for a while. Somewhere in there I managed to leave a message for my boss that I wouldn't be in for a couple days.

Monday, he was breathing better. My dad came by around 9:30 with coffee and croissants and I decided I wanted my dad to stay until they released us. This took a very long time. Finally just before noon one of the doctors from our doctor's office came by to release us. After that, we had to wait for somebody to bring us a portable nebulizer and we came back to "Mema's House." We were both so wrecked, he went to sleep at six thirty and I went at nine thirty.

We're doing better today. We went to the park and then we hung out here and Eric ate and entire sleeve of saltines for lunch. Very healthy, I know.. but there's SO few things that he actually eats. Then we went to the fancy produce store and bought a container of five dollar strawberries. They were very delicious.

He's finally asleep now. His new school has them napping at one instead of noon, so I shot for the 1:00 nap and ended up with a 2:00 nap. Oh well. At least he's sleeping. After all the adrenaline wore off last night, I felt drained and depressed. But today I'm feeling a lot more normal. A brief look at my work e-mails and I'm in for a rocky week.

But nothing could be worse than watching Eric struggle to breathe. He doesn't have an official diagnosis of asthma, but I think we're getting there. At least unlike me he'll HAVE a diagnosis. I would sit there gasping like a fish and my parents would say "Have some sudafed! have some peppermint tea!" Didn't occur to them once to tell the doctor that I couldn't breathe sometimes. Go figure.

About Me

My name is Margaret, but people that knew me before 1988 usually call me Meg. I grew up in The People's Republic of Cambridge and I used to live next door in Somerville. (Which is much cooler than Cambridge these days despite a conspicuous lack of public green-space). I graduated from Sarah Lawrence College in 1992, and to this day I have mixed feelings about that. I I'm married to a fabulously handsome and kind man and I have 2 really neat kids. We also have 2 cats and live in a Victorian in Melrose with a huge porch. I consider myself the luckiest person in the world most of the time. I have a lot of love and stability in my life. It may be unearned, but it is reciprocated and appreciated.